


Gook

by Cimerone



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bigotry, F/M, Frank being Frank, Gen, Racism, Romance, Sort of a character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimerone/pseuds/Cimerone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Burns is stuck in a hut with a Korean woman named Myeong Hye during a storm. Things couldn't get much worse right? Well, he knows Margaret will be leaving in a few days to marry "Penob-snot", everything he thinks he knows is slipping from his fingers, and his mind may be leaving him as presented by several flashbacks. But that's all really! (Minor FrankxOC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gook

The storm raged outside like…a storm. Frank Burns stood huddled in the corner of a worn old hut, his back pressed against the wall and his hands rubbing at his cold arms. The reason he was in the corner wasn't completely due to the cold or the rain dripping from the open doorway and windows.  
The reason was the…well, the gook!  
His sour gaze landed on the young Korean woman staring out at the dark world outside of her miserable and ruined home, her mouth moving as she whispered words Frank couldn't hear. She had allowed him to enter her home from the rain, all the while saying things about her family and an ox mixed in with words he didn't understand…stupid girl didn't even bother to learn the American language!

A burst of lightning struck the earth not far from the hut and Frank uttered a surprised (and totally not terrified) cry, his blue eyes becoming round as saucers. The young woman turned to him and frowned, "You- all-right?" she questioned in halting English. Frank frowned, "None of your business!" he replied wittily, rubbing more furiously at his arms (ok, perhaps she did know some of his language, so what?). He didn't want to have a conversation with a Korean. No,  _never, never, never!_  
She didn't seem to mind this and walked away from the door, her long silky black hair swaying as she walked. She slumped down on the ground next to a small wooden table, her hand resting in a fist upon the surface.

Frank swallowed, considering what to do next.

* * *

_"Margaret please, I want you…I **need** you!"_   
_"Frank I've told you a thousand times, there is nothing between us anymore! Get over it."_

_Frank's puppy dog like expression was fixed on Margaret Houlihan, the woman of his dreams, the object of his desires…though sometimes those thoughts stretched to his wife and her father's cavernous bank account._   
_"But Margaret-"_   
_"No Frank!" she snarled, shoving his hands away from her arm which he had desperately grabbed at, "Don't you dare touch me again!" her eyes narrowed dangerously._   
_Burns finally withdrew and watched as Margaret stormed off, his heart forming a strange jumpy rhythm inside his chest._

_Why didn't she love him anymore?_

* * *

"My name, Myeong Hye, what -yours?"

Frank broke from his reverie to look at the Korean woman, his upper lip (what little there was of it) curled up contemptuously, "As if you care!" he spat.  
Her brow furrowed, "I do," she said simply. Frank blinked at her, "Uh…Frank," he said after a pause, "…Burns. Major Frank Burns," he echoed.  
She smiled faintly at him, "That is- nice name," she complimented uselessly. Most likely trying to get on his good side so that she could get close to him and  _knife him or something_! Well she wasn't allowed a step closer to this fella!  
"And your name sounds like a sneeze," Burns replied haughtily, raising his chin in the air. This was met by a tinkling laughter that surprised Frank, "And yours, like a…a cough," she replied.  
Used to insults, Frank usually let them roll off him. Usually, meaning-  _never_. Every insult stung, but he never knew how to properly combat them when they came. Though he had the benefit of sometimes _not understanding when he was being insulted_   _in the first place_. Acting high and mighty usually satisfied his discomfort so he continued this, "Whatever  _Yobo_!"  
She recoiled at the venom in his voice, and her mouth glued shut. Something odd danced in his chest (which would never be identified: guilt) and he swallowed again, fixing his gaze on the primarily dirt floor.

* * *

_A dying body on the table before him, contemptuous stares fixed upon him…and the cold ring of masked laughter as they taunted him. Too bad a surgeon to save the boy's life, stupid Frank, idiot Frank! He stood wide eyed as Hawkeye stepped to him, took the scalpel gently from his hands, and started cutting into what should have been Burns' patient._   
_He couldn't even argue, the cold upset stare of Margaret was boring into his skull from behind._   
_"Go help-retractor- another patient Frank," Pierce ordered, not even bothering to look up._

_The mark of a good doctor was not to see the patient on the table as a human being, right? So when they die, you can move on with ease! He felt sick as he walked, trying not to expel the contents of his stomach, he took a less wanting patient, and began to cut._

* * *

Frank's eyes opened to the darkness around him, he hadn't even noticed when his body gave into exhaustion and succumbed to sleep, legs giving way he had slowly lowered to the ground. The cold seeped into his very being, but he could feel slight warmth touching his wrist…  
"AH!" the man shouted, scrabbling to his feet and pushing the warm body in front of him to the ground. He managed to make out the somewhat short figure of Myeong Hye, who was now on the ground. Frank took in quick breaths, "I knew it!" he accused loudly, the corners of his mouth forming a pleased smile. Dirt, dirt beneath his boot!  
Myeong Hye got to her feet and gave him a disbelieving look, "You were- cold," she said, and held up an item Frank hadn't seen before. A blanket.  
Burns' joy at being right melted away… "Yeah right," he finally said, "How do I know you weren't going to  _smother me_? Huh?" he argued, crossing his arms, his limbs stiff due to his poor sleeping position and the ice seeping into his bones. He could still hear the harsh sound of rain slamming against the roof of the hut. Myeong Hye's eyebrows lowered, "Smother?" she asked.

Ah.

Frank seemed to accept her unknowing of the English word as a reason why she would not do it, and so relaxed a little. He settled on her having been horribly misguided, as if he needed her help! He licked his thin lips and felt the heat of his tongue, God he was cold…  
"I made tea," Myeong Hye said, her voice going a little more apprehensive. (And with some right, her guest had just assaulted her!)  
Frank shook his head, "No," he sighed, moving back to his corner, "It's probably poisoned," he pursed his lips at the young Korean woman. She shook her head ruefully, "You will- get- cold," she argued, not able to really articulate what she meant with the constraints of her second language. Frank shook his head, "Na-ah, not going to happen sister. You'd like to see me go down now wouldn't you!" he narrowed his eyes accusingly.

Myeong Hye moved to the wood stove resting in the other corner of the room, where a pot of hot water was steaming gently. She grabbed two small wooden cups and poured the tea into them, and then sat herself down at the small wooden table. She waited a moment before she blew softly at the rising steam, and took a sip. Then she looked pointedly at him with raised eyebrows, "Not poison," she said stiffly.  
Frank considered this for a moment, and finally decided he was much too uncomfortable to say no anymore.

* * *

_Frank needed a hug. One of those big hugs that swallowed you up and wouldn't let you go until you were ready. One of those hugs his mother would give._   
_He was curled into a ball on his cot, arms wrapped around his knees, face set in a depressed sort of grimace._   
_He'd just been punched square in the face by a patient, which um…hurt. A lot._   
_Who knew why the bee was inside the guy's bonnet, all Frank knew was that his face hurt and he wasn't going to press charges until it didn't._   
_Absently he reached up with one hand and touched his swollen upper lip, and whimpered pathetically._   
_Hawkeye entered the room and raised an eyebrow with his usual air of importance, "Feeling ok Frank?" he asked, a smirk barely playing with the corners of his mouth yet the soft quirk of his eyebrows representing the slightest bit of care._   
_"Oh go blow it out your ear!" came the reply, harsh and slightly weird in tone due to oversized lip._   
_"Ok Frank," Hawkeye shrugged, then proceeded to his cot._

* * *

Frank curled his legs beneath him and wrapped his hands around the small wooden cup. His fingers probed the edges, relishing the warmth before he raised the cup to his lips and attempted a sip, "NERTZ!" he yelped, shoving the cup back onto the table and grabbing at his burnt tongue.  
Myeong Hye startled and then smiled, "It is hot," she said, cocking her head ever so slightly to the right. There was strange sympathy in her gaze, perhaps she assumed him "not all there" whatever it was, Frank didn't appreciate it!  
"Thank you," he spat sarcastically, wrapping his knuckle against the tabletop a few times, his legs searching for a more comfortable position. The young Korean woman remained silent as she brought her cup to her lips and took a sip. This made Frank uneasy, and he cleared his throat to fill the void. She raised an eyebrow, "Yes?" she asked.  
He made a noncommittal hum in the back of his throat, fingers toying with his cup, "Uh, so uh… you like cake?"

Oh god, that was stupid! But hey, most people claimed Frank  _was stupid_ , and he was certain Koreans were stupid. So, maybe it fit.  
"I don't know-" he brow furrowed.  
He raised his eyebrows, "You've never heard of cake? You're weird!" a self-satisfied grin spread across his face. Myeong Hye smiled softly back at him, though confused by this weird American trespasser. "I have not gone out-much," she supplied.  
Burns nodded, "Oh yeah sure," he sighed, still smiling, "how about cheese? Ever hear of cheese?" his blue eyes were sparkling.

This conversation was taking a turn for the absurd, so Myeong Hye took a different path, "Are you a-a soldier?" she asked, though it seemed a stupid question as well. The ugly green of his clothing and the pale of his skin told her that it was at least partly true.  
Caught by surprise Frank blinked at her, "I might as well be," he said, "I'm a surgeon for the 4077th, a good one! Not that anyone thinks so but they're lecherous cave dwellers," he wrinkled his nose, "I'm just as patriotic as any good soldier though!" he added for good measure, placing his hand over his heart.  
It took about a minute for the girl to full grasp what he was saying, not having known some of the words spoken. She understood surgeon, and she knew about the 4077th which was sort of close by so she got the gist of it.  
"You save many lives I am- sure," she said, her mouth forming a crooked sort of grin. Frank found himself focusing on her surprisingly pearly white teeth, though a few were crooked. He cleared his throat, "Yep, loads!" he shoved his hands onto his lap and rocked back and forth a little. He adored where this was going, admiration was rarely afforded to him!

"Why do the- lechers say you are bad surgeon?" Myeong Hye asked after a short pause. Frank grabbed a cup and took a large gulp, "Oh you know, a few people die on my table sometimes and they never let me forget it!"

* * *

_"Frank! FRANK! Come on do something!"_

_Panic, can't breathe, give up, lost cause!_   
_Burns took a step back, sweat rolling down his forehead. "Stop yelling at me guys!" he shouted, "I'd like to see you do this!"_   
_Like before, a man was by his side pushing his way to the patient. Only now it was Hunnicutt whose blue eyes were filled with…oh God._

_Disappointment. Judgement. Pity. Anger._

_Frank choked out a few insults that didn't affect the man at all before he stepped back and allowed Hunnicutt to take over- not that he had much choice BJ was much taller and stronger than him._   
_"Ok, he's not too bad off… Watch me ok Frank?" he thought he heard BJ say, but he felt his self-righteousness swell inside of him. "Whatever," he mumbled, brow furrowing angrily._   
_One of these days he was going to save a patient by himself again, and everyone would be eating their words!_

* * *

Myeong Hye was looking at him with something akin to Hunnicutt's stare, "D-do you not care?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Frank could see the almond shade of her eyes as a clap of thunder brightened his surroundings. She had a small mole just above her lip, strong cheekbones and smooth skin…  
"I care, when it's one of ours," he replied without thinking.  
A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her gaze away from him. Frank wasn't sure what he'd exactly said wrong, but felt that same nagging indefinable feeling rising inside of him and squeezing his heart.  
To his eventual surprise, Myeong Hye did not throw him out of the hut; instead she kept her attention focused on her finished tea and remained silent and still as a statue.  
Silence only broken by the loud beating of rain upon the rooftop filled the room. Frank ran a hand over a crease in his pant leg, thin lips pursed as he waited for the feeling to eventually subside. It didn't, and he considered snapping at the woman for being well, a Korean. Which  _suddenly_  felt like a stupid thing to accuse someone of.

"I uh…I sometimes wished that I cared more," he said, his voice barely a whisper, the whiny tone usually present in his voice completely gone. Later he would put it down to hunger, fear, cold, maybe even spiked tea and manipulation from the enemy. But now, it was wanting to bring what little he could feel to the surface.  
"I mean, someone dies and Pierce and Hunnicutt don't let it go! But I-I do," he shrugged, toying with his fingers he added, "Easily. And-and I don't really know why."  
Myeong Hye finally looked up at him, again with a sympathetic gaze, "You-feel, for something," she said, an air of finality in her tone.  
She was odd, switching her view of him every time he spoke, but Frank didn't mind. She was listening, she  _wanted_  to like him which he could not say of almost anyone else.  
"Maybe," he shrugged listlessly, "well, there's Margaret…But I wish I didn't feel anything for her!" a wrinkle formed on his forehead, and something lodged in his throat. Myeong Hye nodded, "Go-on," she said, pressing the palm of her hand hard onto the tabletop. Frank noted her long nails, dirt jammed beneath.  _Long fingers, thin and lithe._  
"Margaret is the girl I was uh, dating," he said, not quite sure how to describe the situation the two had created for themselves.  
"The colonel said that going to Battalion Aid might help me forget my troubles, but I'll never forget  _Margaret!_ " he insisted.  
"Where-did she go?" Myeong Hye asked.

* * *

_"If you had asked me to marry you truthfully before I met Donald, I would have said yes. But it's too late, I've moved on and you are obviously far too attached to your stupid wife to leave her for anyone. So settle down, do whatever you want with your retched life, just leave me alone!"_

* * *

Frank shook his head, "Nothing, forget it," he said, his voice cracking. He knew he wanted Margaret, but he wanted his wife and his daughters and of course the money too. Maybe more, maybe less, it was all jumbled inside poor Frank's head!  
Myeong Hye seemed to realize she was riling her companion up, and grabbed her ankles, shoulders brought near her ears, "You have sad story," she said simply.  
Burns shrugged again, "I do,  _everyone hates me_  and -I don't know why. What about you?" the actual question was more intended to be "Does anyone hate you?" so that he might feel better. But Myeong Hye took it differently.  
"My family is gone, and I am alone," she said, her bottom lip fixing between her teeth. Frank blinked at her a few times before he felt urged to question this new information, "Why?"  
The young Korean woman's eyes filled with tears, "The bombs, they fell too close. They fled, but I could not leave my-my home," she swallowed a clear lump in her throat, "I fear I shall soon starve," she looked up at her companion.

"To death?"

Another stupid question, which forced a crooked smile to form from her mouth, "Yes," she answered, digging her nails into the flesh of her heel. She had lovely feet, petit, rounded toes, rough soles that needed lotion. Burns licked his upper lip, he'd always enjoyed Margaret's feet, her ears, the things most people barely noticed. The least obvious things. With his wife, it was her eyes. Empty maybe, but a beautiful chocolate brown.  
Myeong Hye took in a deep breath, "I fear my family is dead, I have no way of…" her voice trailed off and she freed her hand to rub at one of her eyes.  
Something inside Frank twisted and blackened when he saw the soft dew roll from her eyes and collect on her sleeve, his upper lip twitched slightly before he reacted in an unusual manner.

He climbed slowly over the table, knees aching against the hardwood. His hands went forwards and gripped Myeong Hye's face just below the jaw, bringing her face to his. His lips pressed against hers.  
Her lips were soft and a little bit salty, she had a cut he hadn't noticed in the darkness which he probed with own lips for a few moments. He stroked her neck with his thumbs as Myeong Hye deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against his well-kept teeth.  
A burst of lightening striking the ground pulled the two from it, and Frank yelped, "I didn't do that!" he cried, pulling away, "I didn't do that, I didn't do that!" hysterical laughter edged around his words as he landed on his rump on the dirt floor.  
The young (beautiful) Korean woman shook her head, "You did," she said simply, folding her hands in her lap, a soft blush spread across her cheeks.  
Burns shook his head, "I can't have, I can't… You're a gook, a commie, a thief, a nothing!" tears welled in his eyes.

He'd failed his father- his country! He'd given into t lust or-or something of that sort and proved that he was no better than Pierce!

Myeong Hye didn't seem swayed by his insults, she'd seen behind the façade. The careful way her hand crept forward and took his was enough to at least stop the hyperventilation of Frank, "It is alright Frank Burns" she said, "I know we cannot…" she stopped herself, but Burns knew what she meant.  
Be together; bring each other "closer".  
She pulled him towards her and wrapped her arms around him, his forehead resting against her collarbone. He could feel her hand through his hair, probing his scalp.  
He wondered what he might discover about this girl, what made her the way she was-easily trusting and calm. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, maybe massage her feet, or bring her into another kiss-but restrained himself. Instead he allowed her to hold him.

...

Burns woke up still in Myeong Hye's arms, though the woman had moved the two of them and had finally fallen asleep. He could feel her heart beat and each breath she took.  
He smacked his lips quietly so as not to disturb her, he could still taste the tea she had made for him. Big blue eyes took in his surroundings; the hut looked less-well- _archaic_ in the daylight. He could see the few personal touches that his home would never have, such as a clay pot filled with flower-like weeds. A painting was hooked precariously on the wall, and it was very slap-dashed done. -But he liked it.  
He swallowed, remembering the happenings of the night. He wasn't sure what to do with all that had occurred.  
This was what happened when one gets sent to Battalion Aid, you end up spooning a Korean! -He smiled to himself at the joke.

Frank managed to pull himself from Myeong Hye's arms without waking her, and he set about reheating what was left of the tea in the pot. It became apparent that the poor woman had little else.  
He decided then and there that he would return and he would take some food back with him for Myeong Hye! Even if she was a Korean she didn't deserve to die. In truth,  _not many people did._  
"You are awake," Myeong Hye said, stretching out her surprisingly long limbs. She pulled herself to her feet, her bland clothing covering up her perfect feet.  
Frank bit his bottom lip, "I can't stay you know, it stopped raining so I can go home now," he said pointedly. The young woman nodded soberly, "Yes," she replied.  
The two filled their cups and sat down at the table, relishing the warmth and each other's pitiful company.  
It seemed like ten minutes, but an hour had passed before Frank realized that he had to leave. He shoved his cup away from him and smiled lightly at Myeong Hye, "This was-fun I guess," he said softly, getting to his feet.  
She did the same, and walked behind him as he walked out of the hut and towards the soaked jeep. Frank wrinkled his nose, realizing just how wet the seat of his pants were going to get.  
This was glossed over by the hug Myeong Hye pulled him into, her chin resting in the gap between his collarbone and shoulder. Frank kissed the top of her head, the best he could think to do.

"Goodbye Myeong Hye."

She watched as he drove away.

* * *

_Frank gripped a glass filled with amber liquid, ice swirling around inside of it. He looked blearily at the bar around him, blue eyed gaze to distant for him to ever appear sober._   
_Colonel Potter had though it a good idea to send Burns off to Seoul in hopes of taking his mind of Margaret's marriage to Donald Penob-snot. The young man giggled to himself as the name repeated in his head, it sounded good. That stupid idiot…face._   
_His fingertips danced around the edges of his glass, which reminded him vaguely of the wooden cups belonging to Myeong Hye. He hadn't gotten her food yet, but in his drunken state, he didn't much care. He would do it when he came back. He wouldn't let her die of starvation._

_Wait… his gaze landed on a blonde woman entering with another man. The spit left his mouth as he realized who it must have been. His cheeks flushed as a mixture of lust and love mixed with each other and were given leeway through severe amounts of alcohol. Any thoughts of Myeong Hye left his mind, never to return._

_"Margaret!"_

**Author's Note:**

> 1: This is my first M*A*S*H Fanfiction can you believe it? I bet you can. XD
> 
> 2: I hope I got Frank in character, I really do. Truth be told I actually hold a lot of sympathy for him, erm, more like pity. He's so pathetic! So sad and confused. I sometimes wonder if he might have had something akin to Autism, because he just...doesn't get it. I'm probably wrong (and by no means am an expert-no hate!) O-O
> 
> 3: How was Myeong Hye? I tried to make her interesting, but this was more about Frank than anything else. Besides, I didn't want to make this too long, so I couldn't delve too deep into her. And of course you know what happened to Frank after the drunken scene so um…I'll leave you to imagine what happened to her.
> 
> 4: Please Review, it would mean a lot to me! (Even criticism of course)


End file.
